The Beginnings of War
by Vega612
Summary: America is attacked by Pearl Harbor. One-shot


America took a small sip of his coffee, it was a beautiful Sunday morning. He crossed from his kitchen to the living room, sitting down on the couch. He put his coffee down and picked up the newspaper. The front page rambled on about the war. He sighed, it hurt to leave England alone, but after what happened during the last war... he shook his head. Not wanting to think about it. So many lives had been lost, and his country was thrown into The Great Depression soon after. He supported the Allied countries by sending them money, weapons, everything he could do to help. Except troops. Looking through the rest of the pages, he picked up his coffee to take a sip again. It fell out of his hand a moment later though. Half of it spilled onto his legs and chest, while the other half on the floor. The hot liquid burned, but it was mere pricks compared to the clawing inside his head. Alfred had never felt such a pain before. His ears rung, to the point where it seemed they were going to burst. His head throbbed and felt as if it were on fire. His lungs, they clenched and tightened, not willing to grant his body air. He fell onto the carpet, clutching his head in agony. 'Make it stop, why won't it stop!' he wheezed through his head. His lungs contracted and he coughed out a spatter of blood. 'What was happening!' Another wave of pain cracked in his skull, his vision went hazy and soon turned into shades of gray, and then black.

Alfred woke to men shaking him. He blinked, his head throbbed and pounded, his vision blurred. He was lying on his floor.. Why? "Sir! Sir! We have to go! The vice president wants you to be transported to a secure place! There has been an attack on U.S. Soil!" A man in a black uniform screamed at him. 'An attack?! How dare Germany attack us! We have remained neutral for the whole war!' Feeling blind rage boil up inside him, he was about to beat the living crap out of his new enemy. He stood to his feet suddenly, but was greeted by more throbbing in his head and waves of dizziness. The officer grabbed his arm, "Come on Sir! The helicopter is waiting outside!" The man pulled on Alfred's arm, dragging him towards his front door. No, he couldn't flee, not while his country was in danger!

Planting his feet into the ground, he breathily shook, "No! I can hide... I have-"

The officer cut him off, practically shoving him through the door. Even though Alfred was much taller and stronger, he felt horribly sick, and didn't have the strength to resist. The large bleating of the helicopter blew dust off the Californian ground and into his eyes. He held up an arm to block out the dust, but it pained him to move it. He hissed through clenched teeth. He knew this was bad. He had only felt the sheer pain a couple of times before. The war of 1812, when the British stepped foot onto American soil and deliberately attacked. Then during the civil war when mass murders were held and his country split apart. Though, the pain was never this bad. Through his squinting eyes, he noticed other officers were stepping out of his country home, rushing towards the helicopter. The man had never let go of his arm and began to drag him, tossing him inside. He nauseous head swam and he barely had the chance to sit down and put on a helmet before he slipped into unconsciousness again.

Head spinning, America woke up to a blinding white room. His ears rang as he sat up. Twinging at the pain on his upper left arm. He looked down to see it wrapped tightly in bandages, a dark red stain of fresh blood seeped through. His mind began to quickly pick through the memories. He jumped as he remembered the most important one; his country had been attacked. He leaped off the bunker, the white sheets falling at his feet. He noticed that his clothes had slightly changed. Instead of a casual sweater, he wore his trim, tan, military uniform. Several decorations dotted the chest and arms, but that's not what mattered. He tried to take a step forwards towards the door, but his knee buckled and he crashed. His hand swung onto the bedside table, knocking over a glass of water. It exploded on the floor in shards of glass and water. Looking to his hand, he noticed pricks of red tearing down across his palm.

The door swung open and two military officials, who looked like guards, bent down to help him up. One was shorter than the other, and grabbed America's unbroken arm and pulled him up.

"What's going on." He hissed through gritted teeth.

The taller man didn't answer his question, but gruffly stated, "The President would like to speak with you."

America nodded, knowing that his questions would finally be answered then. The anger returned to him as the men lead him out into the hall and down several corridors. He planned his revenge on those pieces of sh!t who dared to call themselves the superior race. Finally, they rounded a corner, to which at least twenty men stood guarding a door. The two men closest to the door took one look at America before opening the door slowly. He rushed through them to come into a large, circular office. It looked almost exactly like the Oval office in DC. Large American flags lined the wall, and positioned in between were large guards. The secret service, Alfred thought, knowing how many encounters, good and bad, he had with them. The president looked up from his large desk to look at America. His jaw clenched and he coughed before commanding, "Please wait outside men, we will only be a minute. I will call if I need you." He looked around to the guards, who hesitated, before the filed out slowly, brushing past America.

"What happened!" He rushed up to President Roosevelt, slamming his fists down on the desk.

The president sighed looking down, "Pearl Harbor was attacked this morning." He looked up to see America's red face. "N..Not by Germany or Italy though... but by Japan." He stuttered. America could tell by his face that he was trying not to blow up. That didn't stop Alfred from doing so though.

"What!?"

"Approximately at 7:55 A.M. This morning, they unleashed an aerial attack on Pearl Harbor, sinking many ships, and many lives." He handed Alfred the report."I suggest we start recruiting soldiers. It will take a couple of days for Congress to sign off on the declaration of war, but in the mean time, I want you over in Europe discussing battle plans. We will take back the pacific easy enough, but Europe will be a pain." he paused for a moment. "Mr. America, we are now at war."

~It's called a time break!~

On December 7, 1941, Japan attacked Pearl Harbor, as well as many other islands in the Pacific. On December 9, America declared war on Japan. On December 11, Germany declared war on America. Before that time, America, as well as several other countries were in a depression. As soon as the war started in America though, millions of jobs in factories and in the armed forces opened up. Almost all women worked in factories while the men were at war. The people were back at work, money was made and the Allies started to gain ground. America joining was the turning point of the war. Though most of the countries hate to admit it, they would have never won unless America joined.

~What is this? Another time break?~

America slid out of his plane, tossing his helmet off as he landed on the smooth concrete. Landing on a British runway, America had come to his first meeting with the other leaders of the Allies.


End file.
